Care
by rabbitsix
Summary: Tamaki needs a little TLC, Kyouya is there to oblige. TamakiKyouya, rated T for misuse of a nurse's office.


Rabbit here. If you're not watching the World Cup, you're not living.

Douzo.

* * *

"_It really was your own fault, Tamaki."_

_"But I wasn't even holding the cup! Tachibana dropped it, not me!"_

_"Who got Tachibana-san so flustered that she couldn't even keep her grip on it?"_

_"...Well, me, but I-"_

_"And who was so brash as to bend down and pick up the broken pieces with their bare hands?"_

_"...me, but I -"_

_"And, who tried to play the hero by hiding the cut for half a day until it re-opened and began bleeding all over his desk?"_

_"Me! But I just thought that-"_

_"No, Tamaki. That's the problem. You don't _think_ enough."_

_

* * *

_

Tamaki was sulking, but this was nothing new. Kyouya had sent the nurse out of the office, claiming in even tones that he could handle this himself. Smiling a bit bashfully she had acquiesced, setting the bandages and a small bottle of disinfectant down on the counter. Top quality supplies, of course, though they were rarely ever used; rich kids were better at accruing net worth than boo-boos.

"You don't have to do it," the blonde informed the brunette, tucking his knees up further on the chair. "I'm not a baby."

Kyouya smiled and tilted his head in that infuriatingly calm way of his, saying nothing as he drew Tamaki's hand forward and turned it over to examine the long cut. Tamaki let him, keeping blue eyes trained on the gilt leaf-and-vine pattern that crawled across the floor molding and up the sides of the wall.

"Really, it's nothing serious so why don't I- Christ, Kyouya! That hurts!" Snatching his hand away, Tamaki glared at his sometime best friend as the latter retracted his probing fingers.

"Does it, now? But you said it was nothing serious." Smile, smile.

"It's not! But you didn't have to _poke_ it like that..." God, that smile pissed him off. It was Mom's silent way of saying 'I know better and you don't know shit.' Kyouya used it on Haruhi a lot, especially within financial contexts. Didn't he merit a more meaningful facial expression?

Both boys fell silent as they looked at each other, Kyouya's gaze cool and measuring while Tamaki met his eyes sullenly.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"A vice president may look at a king."(1)

Tamaki's lips curled involuntarily. "You know, we don't have to use those terms outside of the host club. Especially when we're in private."

"Ah." Kyouya reached his hands out, palm up as if in supplication. "Then an Ohtori may look at a Suoh." Warm fingers settled over his own as Tamaki gingerly laid his hand into Kyouya's waiting hold.

Tracing the long gash, (deeper than he had expected, but also shallower,) Kyouya's face gave nothing away while he stroked his thumb ever so gently along the line of red. Tamaki watched his friend's blank expression for a moment before looking down at his hand, still caught between Kyouya's. Their skin tones were nearly even, but Tamaki had always been just a half shade lighter, testament to a foreign heritage. Kyouya's fingers seemed longer, too, even though Tamaki was just a little bit taller. They overlapped his own, slender digits communicating with each other far more eloquently than the silent students to whom they belonged.

"Really, you must stop being so careless." The murmured words were slightly rough as Kyouya lifted the injured hand to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the broken skin.

Tamaki smiled crookedly and leaned back a bit, letting his arm go slack in Kyouya's grasp. "I guess you're right. I wouldn't want to mar my fabled beauty and disappoint the customers, eh?"

"It isn't marred," Kyouya demurred quietly, "it is simply marked." When Tamaki blinked at him, puzzled, the bespectacled boy tugged his sleeve up, revealing the white skin beneath. "There is nothing less beautiful about the skin here," and he kissed his hand once more, "and the skin _here_." Kyouya dragged his tongue over the pale wrist, teeth finding the long vein and closing over it with the utmost care. A pink tinge spread across

Tamaki's cheeks as his sleeve was tugged higher, lips, teeth, and tongue traveling higher up his arm, reverently assaulting the unblemished flesh.

Kyouya stopped and sat back when he met the junction of arm and elbow, regarding Tamaki with quiet interest. The blonde heir's breathing had sped up of its own volition and suddenly the room was just two degrees too warm. It wasn't as if Kyouya's touch was foreign; perhaps then it was the fact that they were in the nurse's office where anyone could simply open the door and completely misinterpret the situation...

He voiced this last concern aloud, much to Kyouya's amusement. "What is there to misinterpret?"

Tamaki looked meaningfully at their position- two boys seated directly across from each other, knees touching, one holding the other's hand. "They might think that...you know... we were-"

"-Friends?" Kyouya cut him off, one hand resting on Tamaki's collar. "We're friends, Tamaki, and friends take care of each other when they get hurt. _Don't think about it so much_." The coldness in his voice belied the heat of his mouth as he pulled Tamaki to him sharply, a kiss full of anger drowning out the accusations vying for attention in Tamaki's head.

When Kyouya pulled back, Tamaki nearly whined at the loss of contact, watching the darker boy with eyes half-hooded in desire. "But you're right about the location; we have an image to uphold, after all. We carry the name of the Ouran Host Club wherever we go." Withdrawing his hands, Kyouya reached up to adjust his glasses before straightening Tamaki's school jacket.

Tamaki cast his eyes to the side as Kyouya stood up to grab the bandages. "Yeah...I guess so." A hush fell over the office once more while the vice-president took care of his king, cleaning the wound that had been all but forgotten by its owner at this point.

When the task was completed, the two hosts stood for a moment in awkward silence. They were both aware of the nurse's presence somewhere close by in the hallway outside, aware of the fact that the chimes would sound in a few minutes to signal the start of 6th period, aware that they really had no reason to be there anymore.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly as they faced each other, an ominous reminder of their own awareness. They still needed to make up an excuse for why it had taken them this long to treat such a small injury, explain to their teachers why they had missed their previous class, buy a replacement teacup to match the existing set...

"We have some time."

And then Tamaki was pressed against the wall, pants yanked down as Kyouya's mouth was on him, hot and wet and image be damned.

Blue eyes rolled up into Tamaki's head as he couldn't help thinking that of all the ways Kyouya took care of him, this was the best one of all.

* * *

"Ah, Tachibana-san! Did you find Suoh-san in the office? I would have thought they had left by now." 

"Oh, no, they were just having some trouble...with...the bandages. I should be going now or I'll be late for class, thank you Senpai!"

The nurse shook her head as the red-cheeked student raced down the hallway, wondering how these rich kids managed to survive on their own.

"_Honestly_, 45 minutes just to take care of a cut..."

* * *

(1): In Lewis Carroll's _Alice Adventures in Wonderland, _the following dialogue appears on the queen's croquet ground: 

_It's a friend of mine--a Cheshire Cat,' said Alice: allow me to introduce it.' _

_I don't like the look of it at all,' said the King: however, it may kiss my hand if it likes.' _

_I'd rather not,' the Cat remarked. _

_Don't be impertinent,' said the King, and don't look at me like that!' He got behind Alice as he spoke. _

_**A cat may look at a king,'** said Alice. I've read that in some book, but I don't remember where.' _

The saying dates back to the 16th century and means, quite simply, "I'm as good as you, regardless of status." I thought it was fitting, and I love the book so I decided to throw it in.


End file.
